


The Idol, The Shrine

by twahtohnedskee



Category: BTOB
Genre: Comfort No Hurt, Established Relationship, Idol!minhyuk, M/M, Non-celebrity!Eunkwang, Rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25761424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twahtohnedskee/pseuds/twahtohnedskee
Summary: Minhyuk has never liked the word “allow.” It’s too passive, too indulgent. It goes against his years of hard-earned discipline and the lines he’s carefully drawn up to keep everything from falling apart. This much time for practice, this many calories per meal. This for the fans but this for home. He doesn’t give in to people easily, least of all himself. But there is one exception.Eunkwang says, “let me” and somehow, Minhyuk does.
Relationships: Lee Minhyuk/Seo Eunkwang
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	The Idol, The Shrine

Minhyuk loves his job, truly. He knows that he could have walked other paths. He was decent in school, better at sports. But nothing ever came close to the feeling of performing. He thrives on the feeling of creation, of shared energy. And yes, the attention. Being on stage is a high he’s never experienced anywhere else.

But there are still times when Minhyuk comes home drained of everything he’s had to give. And he always gives a lot. _One hundred and ten percent_ , a voice singsongs in his ear, fond, if exasperated. Which occasionally means he’s left in the negative.

It’s been a full day; a music show recording in the morning, variety filming in the afternoon, and a night time radio guesting which wouldn’t have happened if the show hadn’t been Ilhoon’s, who he can deny nothing.

Now it’s nearing 12 am but the traffic in Seoul is still at a crawl. Minhyuk knows he should make the most of this chance to relax. It’s the first downtime he’s had the entire day but he feels restless. His fingers drum against the armrest of his seat despite how tired he is, like the aftershocks of energy that has long since left his body.

Outside the car, storm clouds paint the city a dull gray. They’ve been hovering there since late afternoon, turning the atmosphere humid and static. Minhyuk was never the best at science. He can only guess at what it is that compels clouds to hold rain inside them for so long. He opens the window a bit to catch the dusty smell of it.

They pull up to his apartment just as fat droplets begin to fall from the sky. He waves away his manager’s offer to walk him to the door with an umbrella. He’ll just make a run for it. What’s a little water anyway?

A few drops catch on Minhyuk’s clothes and face. He swears he can hear it raining harder in the distance. But it hasn’t caught up to him. Not yet.

The lights in the entryway of the apartment flick on when he opens the door. There’s a pair of shoes already at the threshold: battered sneakers just passable enough to deny Minhyuk’s repeated offers to purchase new ones. He lines his own dress shoes up so that the two pairs sit side by side. He smiles, feeling sappy and a little foolish.

He calls out to announce himself but there’s no answer. The quiet makes way for the steady patter of rain that’s finally begun to fall in earnest. There’s a laptop open on the island in the kitchen. Papers and pens are strewn everywhere. That’s right, Minhyuk thinks. It should be around exam season.

He should really head for the shower or get changed but he falls onto the couch instead. Just for a second, he convinces himself, stretching out on the cushions. Just until Eunkwang comes back from wherever it is he’s gone. The bathroom, maybe, or a quick gaming break. Minhyuk’s eyes slip closed.

He wakes to the drum of rain against the balcony window and something cool against his cheek. Eunkwang is there, kneeling on the floor by the couch to stay level with his face. He’s got a cotton pad of Minhyuk’s make up remover in his hand, gently wiping foundation away.

Eunkwang doesn’t wear make-up. He barely keeps up a skincare routine himself beyond soap and moisturizer. But he knows how to do this, for Minhyuk. Minhyuk blinks up at him sleepily and Eunkwang’s answering smile is beatific. There’s a rumble of thunder in the distance.

Minhyuk has never liked the word “allow.” It’s too passive, too indulgent. It goes against his years of hard-earned discipline and the lines he’s carefully drawn up to keep everything from falling apart. This much time for practice, this many calories per meal. This for the fans but this for home. He doesn’t give in to people easily, least of all himself. But there is one exception.

Eunkwang says, “let me” and somehow, Minhyuk does.

He closes his eyes again and lets Eunkwang wipe away what remains of _Huta_ , of performer. Of the smeared fingerprints left by people desperately trying to touch and hold and have. He lets him find the Minhyuk underneath, bare-faced and empty-handed. Outside, the rain pours torrential, drowning out an entire city. He feels it echo in his chest.

“Go shower, you’re stinky,” Eunkwang says when he’s done. Minhyuk snorts but does what he’s told. He gets up to do a full body stretch, posing a bit when he catches Eunkwang looking. Minhyuk likes the way his ears still go a pink after all these years. 

Fifteen minutes later, Minhyuk is back in ratty basketball shorts and a t-shirt he’s pretty certain isn’t his own. Eunkwang has returned to his work. There’s this tiny, disbelieving furrow between his brows as he stares down at the paper he’s checking, like he can’t fathom how his student has arrived at this particular answer. It’s cute. He’s cute.

Minhyuk drapes himself heavily over Eunkwang’s back and presses kisses into his temple, his cheek, his neck. Anywhere he can find. He nips at a bit of skin at the juncture of Eunkwang’s neck and shoulder just because he can. Eunkwang smacks him on the shoulder to stop.

“What did you do today?” Minhyuk murmurs, stubborn lips refusing to leave skin. He can’t see Eunkwang’s face from this angle but can feel the way he lights up. Eunkwang launches into a detailed narration of parent-teacher conferences and new lesson plans. His students are blossoming under his tutelage because Eunkwang tends to have that effect on people, tends to see the good and drag it out. Minhyuk knows this firsthand.

Eunkwang’s laughter fills the room in happy little bursts as he moves on to a story about Changsub embarrassing himself in front of the new guidance counsellor. He reaches up to cradle Minhyuk’s arms where they are still around his shoulders. His hands are warm. Relief spreads through Minhyuk’s body from that tiny point of contact, loosening something inside of him.

He thinks that if you distilled his entire life’s worth of happiness into one moment it would come down to something like this: moments with Eunkwang that fill up all his empty spaces.

“Hey, are you hungry?” Eunkwang asks, knocking their heads together a little.

Minhyuk shakes his head, murmurs a small “no” into the crook of Eunkwang’s neck. Then he realizes he hadn’t actually eaten dinner before coming home.

“Well I could go for some ramyun right about now,” Eunkwang says, glancing at the deluge outside. “This kind of weather always makes me crave something warm.”

Minhyuk lets Eunkwang get up and just barely resists the urge to cling to him like a koala as he putters around the kitchen.

They end up seated on the floor in the living room, a pot of steaming ramyun on the coffee table. It reminds Minhyuk of the early days when he and Eunkwang barely saw each other at all—Minhyuk with his mad scramble for the top and Eunkwang his own tornado of school and work. Even then they managed to carve out spaces to be together. Things like this. Late night ramen back dropped by heavy rain. Each moment hard-fought and hard-won.

These days, Eunkwang tends to stay up late on Fridays to get all of his work out of the way. He prefers his weekends free so he can laze around and play games for hours without guilt. By now, Minhyuk has been an idol long enough that he can skip out of the occasional Saturday practice, which he plans to do tomorrow.

It feels good to have reached this point in their lives where they have control and time. It feels better being able to share that comfort with each other.

Once their bowls have been scraped clean, Eunkwang leans back against the foot of the couch and pats his stomach happily. The angle he’s sitting at has made his shirt ride up, revealing the tiniest bit of skin. Minhyuk can’t help himself. He is a simple man. He leans in and presses his fingers into the softness of Eunkwang’s belly.

Eunkwang squeals. He tries to wriggle away but Minhyuk’s fingers are quick and relentless. He takes pity on him eventually and ceases the attack, leaving Eunkwang flushed and breathless and so very stunning. Minhyuk leans in again, laughing a little at how Eunkwang flinches back, expecting more tickling.

He kisses Eunkwang slow and open, like they have all the time in the world. Eunkwang melts into it with a low hum. His hands come up to cup Minhyuk’s face, pulling him in close. Minhyuk’s own hands skim the curve of Eunkwang’s waist before settling heavy on his hips. He’s not looking to go beyond these unhurried kisses tonight, but he lets the grip of his fingers speak of _more_ and _later_.

Minhyuk pulls back first. He brushes their noses together gently as he does. Sappy, foolish. He watches the surprised look on Eunkwang’s face crinkle into happiness. He almost can’t believe the way his heart still skips at the sight of that smile.

It is somehow still raining outside. It pounds against the walls heavy as a heartbeat. Distantly, Minhyuk wonders how that’s possible. How the whole city hasn’t been submerged underwater. But looking at Eunkwang, sitting kiss-mussed and sated in their living room, Minhyuk comes to a realization.

There are some things that you cannot drown in. There are moments in life that call for abundance. Happiness. Safety. Home. These things are meant to be felt in an overflow. Minhyuk thinks he’d gladly soak in Eunkwang’s rain forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Rainy Minkwang fic as promised! The idea for this was primarily inspired by two quotes which I want to share with you all. The first, from which the title is also taken, is by J.D. McClatchy and goes, _"Love is the quality of attention we pay to things. Love is both the shrine and the idol."_
> 
> The second, I credit to my Catholic upbringing (at least I got something out of it). _Song of Solomon 8:7. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it._
> 
> I would like to thank the Philippine rainy season for its cooperation as I wrote this lol. I'm really happy with how this turned out and it's become one of my favorite pieces to date. I hope you enjoyed it as well! If you did, comments and kudos are lovely.
> 
> [ twitter](https://twitter.com/evnkwangst) // [ cc](https://curiouscat.qa/22skee)


End file.
